#like im all for working your dream job but it must take a toll

[teepussilakana]

if college in america wasnt so expensive maybe we wouldnt have so many youtubers in their teens/ early twenties making shitty content and causing drama

[astrozones]

Sanders Behavioral Health, Chapter 3: Patton Will Help!

Angst Incoming

My discord server if you wanna scream at me- Astro’s Zone

my friends are lovingly cyberbullying me into tagging the man himself so uh @thatsthat24 and ope there goes my anxiety, rising up into the heavens. If you do see this I recommend reading from chapter one but im not gonna tag again unless my friends tell me to bc i dont wanna be a bother :|

Three hours.

Three hours until school ended for the day and Patton would go home for 5 minutes before heading to Sanders’.

Until then, he had to brave the school day. Patton was okay at school, but had a nasty habit of not saying no to any request, and his time between classes was spent doing favors for others. His time for lunch was limited, and his weekends were booked full. It took a toll on Patton, but he’d do anything to make others happy!

After all, others’ happiness was more important than his own.

His therapist had disagreed, which is why he was transferred to Sanders Behavioral Health. And at Sanders they said the same. Why couldn’t they understand that Patton wasn’t worthy of being happy? He didn’t do as much as he could, as much as he should , and he was a bad person.

Like that one time he had noticed a kid sitting in the seat beside him, his name was Todd, looking at his paper during a test. Patton had glanced at the teacher before nudging his paper closer to Todd, and filling out the rest. Once he noticed Todd had finished, he turned it in.

But he had gotten some of the answers wrong . Todd had been counting on him but Patton failed him, and now Todd was grounded for getting a mediocre grade.

And it was all Patton’s fault.

He tried to apologize to Todd, but had been shrugged off, Todd saying, “Eh, you don’t need to man. It was my fault for not studying.”

Todd must hate him.

The bell rang, signalling him to rush to his next class. Well, “class”. It was time for lunch.

Patton grabbed his items as quickly as he could, shoving them into his backpack. He felt guilty for zoning out in class, but the teacher was already on her computer and he didn’t want to disturb her. Once he had stuffed today’s worksheet into his bag, he slipped out, last to leave the room.

Patton held the lunch tray in his hands, looking for a place to sit. No one had asked for his lunch time yet, so he expected someone to call out to him, which was what usually happened these periods.

What he wasn’t expecting was to be cornered.

The edge of a table pierced his back as he was suddenly faced with none other than President of the Student Council (and Tennis Team), Vanessa E. Cordill. He had stumbled back, and quickly shoved his tray on the table behind him, knowing how close Vanessa liked to get to people.

“Hey, Pat! I was wondering if you could help us with preparations this weekend for next week’s volleyball game?” She batted her eyelashes at him, stepping impossibly closer.

“I-uh, I’m really sorry Vanessa, but I’m all booked this weekend.”

“Surely you could make time for me, yeah? Aren’t I your favorite?” Vanessa said sweetly. His favorite? He didn’t have a favorite, that would be unfair to the others! Patton, of course, wouldn’t say that to her, lest he hurt her feelings.

“I’m sorry, I really don’t have time! I’m doing a lot of things this weekend and don’t have any room. I barely have time to sleep and-” he was cut off as Vanessa drew a finger down his chest. “W-what are you doing?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” She purred, winking at him. Get off, get off, geT OFF-

“He already said no, Vanessa Cordill.” Came a voice from behind. Turning his head, he saw none other than Logan Danrow seated at the table he had run into. Vanessa backed up a few steps, glaring.

“Logan?” Patton asked, shuffling towards him so he was farther away from her .

“Wait, Pat, you know this prick?” Vanessa spat, very different from the person he had been talking with moments prior. He nodded.

“Well, yeah, we know each other from- er, yeah we know each other.” he stammered out, hands fiddling with his bracelets. It was getting harder to breathe.

“Again, Vanessa, he already said he was busy. You may leave, lest your boyfriend sees you.” Logan stated flatly, gaze returning to his book. Glancing back towards Vanessa, she pulled a small notepad out of her purse and scribbled something on it, handing it to him once she had ripped it out.

“Just in case you change your mind,” Was all she said before turning around and skipping back to her table to hang with her tennis friends.

Logan turned a page as Patton sat down across from him. Logan glanced back up at him in surprise.

“You want to sit here?” He asked, raising an eyebrow. “I was under the impression that you wished to sit with your friends.”

“Aw, but Logan you are one of my friends!” Patton grinned, grabbing his previously abandoned tray. “Plus, it seems no one needs my help, so until they do, I’m here! I do feel guilty, though…”

“What do you feel guilty about? I’m afraid I do not understand.” Logan stated, setting his book down.

“It’s just… I’m sure I could’ve fit Vanessa’s activity somewhere in my schedule…” he bit the inside of his cheek. “If I just cut my study time by an hour I could have fit her in, y’know?” He fiddled with the stem on his apple, breaking it off with a wince. “I probably could still tell her, actually!”

“No,” Logan said when he went to stand up. “You should not cut your study time to help someone who has enough help. Your grades are important. Vanessa will be fine.”

Patton slumped back into his seat, chewing on his lip. “I suppose… I just… I want to help people. They’re counting on me.” he wiped at a tear threatening to fall. Logan tapped his fingers against the table.

“Patton,” he started. “How often do you help people?”

“Not enough,” Patton admitted with a hiccup. “Most of my weekend is booked, but I’m sure I could do more if I moved things around. I’m sorry for invading your time, Logan, I’ll leave if you want me to.”

“Nonsense,” Logan waved his hand through the air. “I wasn’t doing much anyway. You know, most people don’t even do half the things you put yourself up for. Do you spend all your free time for others?” At Patton’s nod, he continued. “I recommend taking a weekend for yourself, at the very least.”

“I don’t know, mayb-”

“HEY PATTON! Can you help us?” a member of the Drama Club, Canin, yelled from across the cafeteria, jogging over to him. “Auditions are coming in a couple weeks and we need help choosing a musical to do!” Canin begged. Patton spared an apologetic glance at Logan before following after Canin.

--

In the final period of the day, the class was told to fill out a worksheet on the periodic table using stations around the room. They were separated into teams of three, Patton’s teammates being Angelica Carter and Skye Johnson. Once they were sent to a station, all three got to work. Well, Skye and Patton did.

Skye was especially smart at science, telling him their dream job was to become an astronomer one day, and to be the first nonbinary person in space. Patton told them that their name was fitting, which caused Skye to burst into giggles.

Angelica, on the other hand, wouldn’t do anything. Once Skye confronted her on it, she claimed that she couldn’t do anything because she didn’t have a pen or pencil.

Just as Patton was about to offer her a pen, he was struck by the memory of himself offering a pen to Virgil on his first day.

Whenever he offered a pen or pencil to others, he almost never got it back, and this was the same situation with Virgil.

Patton had finished filling out his paper, and once he glanced at Virgil the first thing he noticed was the pen in his hands. Patton had wanted so bad to ask for it back, since it was his second-to-last one. But he hadn’t said anything.

And now he was here, feeling guilty that we couldn’t give Angelica a writing utensil. God , this was just not his day, huh? First he couldn’t help Vanessa, then he couldn’t help the Drama Club choose between Little Shop of Horrors and Hairspray, and now didn’t even have a simple pen for Angelica. He was such a failure .

“Maybe the teacher has something?” He offered, Skye returning to the project. Angelica shrugged and walked over to Ms. Alstor.

And even when Angelica had returned, she didn’t help. At all. All Skye did was roll their eyes and mumble under their breath.

Patton didn’t say anything.

All three got an A.

--

Patton arrived late to Sanders’, again . He had gotten caught up once Jasmine Illes, Vice President of the Student Council, tried to convince him to help out with the volleyball event. He had just barely gotten away with his established schedule intact.

He bursted into the lobby, signing in before Katrine, the one in charge of the front desk, let him in while informing him that the group should still be in the check-in room. He rushed in, Virgil and Logan looking up at him when he entered. Roman was spinning around in his chair, but quickly stopped to greet Patton.

“Sorry I’m late! I got caught up because this girl from school, Jasmine, asked me if I could do something with the Student Council on the weekend.” he quickly announced, taking a deep breath soon after. He grabbed a sheet before plopping down in the nearest chair, taking a few moments to catch his breath.

“Jasmine Illes?” Roman asked. “I know her.” Patton raised an eyebrow.

“You go to Fieldrow? Haven’t seen you there.” Patton said, scribbling out answers.

“Oh, yeah, I just… don’t have the opportunity to go there often.” he replied, looking at the ground awkwardly. Patton was about to say something when Virgil spoke up.

“Yeah, I go there, too,” he muttered, Logan piping up in agreement.

“Aw cool! It’s still the beginning of the school year, maybe we could all join a club that meets on the weekends so we can hang out more!” Patton grinned, looking around at the others.

“I’m not very interested in joining clubs,” Logan started. “I would consider it if it were the Science or Math clubs, but neither of them meet on the weekends.”

“And I don’t really… do clubs. At all.” Virgil continued. Patton let out a small ‘aw’ before turning to Roman.

“What ‘bout you, Roman?” he asked, not acknowledging Logan’s small flinch at the bad grammar.

“Well… I suppose I was thinking about joining the Drama Club… I’m just not sure if it’d work with… me” Roman shook his head. “I’ll decide once they pick a musical.”

Virgil snorted, which caused Roman to let out an indignant ‘wha- hey!’.

“Y’know, I don’t know why I didn’t peg you for a theater nerd earlier, Ro’. It makes perfect sense.” was all Virgil said before Becca quieted them down and told them to start sharing their answers.

--

Once inside the therapy’s cafeteria, Patton was confronted by Charlie.

“Hey, Patton! I have a new exposure for you.” she greeted. “You ready?”

“Um, hold on-” Patton flipped through his binder, before landing on the page he wanted. He whipped out his pen, and continued. “Yep!”

“Alright, this one’s pretty simple but fits what we’re working on with you! All you need to do is ask a staff to borrow a pen and not return it by the end of the day.” Patton stared at her with wide eyes. His life seemed to be revolving around pens, recently, wasn’t it?

“Do I… do I get to return them next week? Cause, y’know… it’s Friday.” he asked, fiddling with his bracelets. Charlie shook her head.

“It’s better not to. Because, in the future, if you accidentally steal a pen from someone, we don’t want you to freak out much. So it’s better to fight that feeling by keeping them!” she smiled. “I know you’ll do great, Patton.”

Patton scribbled it down in his binder reluctantly. He really did want to refuse the exposure, but that would make Charlie disappointed in him, which would make her feel bad. And Patton hated making other people feel bad. So, discomfort it was.

--

Patton found himself in front of the two other counselors’, Harley and Ramona’s, office. Peeking through the window he saw that only Harley was present. He knocked on the door before walking in.

“Hey, Patton,” She greeted. “Whatcha need?”

Patton put on his default smile. Act happy, not stressed, he told himself.

“Heyo Harley! I was just wondering if I could borrow a pen?”

--

After 9 minutes, he had cycled through Becca, Katrine, Ramona, and Vicki. He figured it would be pretty stupid of himself to ask Charlie, so he had to start back at the beginning. Oh dear, what am I supposed to say?

He didn’t have much time to mull it over before Virgil skidded to a stop in front of him. He barely had time to greet him before Virgil was huffing out a response.

“Hey… Patton… sorry one second… gotta catch my breath…” he panted. Patton smiled at him.

“M’kay… This is stupid now that I think of it, but I’m just… Exposures really stress me out, and I have this one where I’m supposed to knock on a staff’s door and just… leave before they can open it.” Virgil started, curling into his hoodie.

“What’s the problem?” Patton prompted when Virgil stayed silent.

“It’s just… really anxiety provoking and- ugh y’know what, it really is stupid, I’ll leave-” Patton grabbed his arm before he could run off. Virgil stilled.

“Virgil! It’s not stupid, Sanders’ can take a lot to get used to. Roman was stressed on his first exposure day, too! Now, I know it’s not your first day, but it still counts! It’ll take a bit to get used to, but it helps in the end!” Patton smiled. “Wanna hug?”

“Erm, no thanks, physical contact scares me. But, ah, thank you. That… helped.” Virgil gave him a small, awkward smile. Patton cherished it. “I am a bit confused, though,” he continued. “It’s about Roman. He said something about my first day being his second proper day, and I was wondering how long he’s been here? Sorry if that was confusing.”

“Don’t worry, I know what you meant. Roman’s first day was Monday, and he started exposures on Tuesday, I think. And then on Wednesday, you came!” Virgil nodded at this, seeming satisfied.

“Now go on!” Patton prompted, gesturing to the staff hallway. “You’ll do great!”

--

Patton walked into his house, pulling out his phone almost immedietly. He had a plan.

-

Therapy pals!!

{ Patton }  { Heyo!! I made a group chat for us all !!! }

{ Is everyone excited for the weekend?? I am!! }

| Virgil |  | ah, weekends. my favorite days of the week to hate myself |

{ VIRGIL NO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! }

| lmao |

( Logan )  ( My weekends are spent studying, I’m impartial to them. )

[ Roman ]  [ Uhhh youre Logan right? Dont have you saved on my phone yet ]

( *you’re *Don’t )

[ Yup thats Logan ]

( I don’jehgfvurkghds )

| wait what |

[ Holy shit ]

{ Roman, language!!! }

{ And are you okay logan!?!?!? }

[ Santa mierda ]

| what? |

( I apologize, I was walking and a dog ran in front of me, causing me to trip. I am okay. And, Roman, is that Spanish? )

{ OH THANK GOD!!!! }

[ Yea it’s Spanish ]

{ Did you get a picture of the dog???????? }

( I was not aware you spoke another language, Roman. I suppose that makes sense, since you are so bad at English. And no, I did not get a picture of the dog, it ran off rather quickly after I tripped. )

[ HEY ]

{ Aw!! Well at least you’re okay!!! }

| i’m gonna put roman’s spanish thru google translate hold up |

[ Wait no ]

( Please use capital letters, Virgil. Plus, it’s spelled through. )

| ajsjfisdkf |

| patton |

| patton |

{ Oh no!! Is something wrong??? }

| no just uh |

| pls put roman’s spanish thru google translate |

( I cannot believe you. )

{ Alright… }

( Do you exist just to insult the English language? )

[ oh nooo my phones about to die ahhh ]

| nice try roman |

{ ROMAN!!!! Don’t swear, even in other languages! >:( }

[ Hey Virgil, i gotta tell you something ]

[ i hate u ]

| who doesnt |

{ Hate is a strong word, Roman. }

[ i know ]

{ VIRGIL NO!!!!!! I LOVE YOU LIKE A SON!!!!!!!!!!!!! D: }

| did i just get adopted |

( It’s not adoption if it’s not in a legal document. )

{ YES YOU DID MY DARK STRANGE SON!!!!!!! ILY!!!! }

( Oh. )

[ Logan should be the mom ]

[ I’ll be the strange uncle who you only see once a year but might be a government spy ]

( What? )

| nah roman you’re like the kid next door |

[ Thanks..? ]

[ Wait did i just get kicked out of the family ]

( I’m afraid I don’t understand how I could be a mother, not even mentioning how Patton, Virgil, and I could even be a family. )

[ I cant believe i got kicked out of the family ]

{ Don’t worry, it’s a metaphorical family Logan!!! }

[ What did i do to deserve this ]

( But how am I a mother? )

( Is anyone going to respond? )

--

//  Private Conversation between Roman and Virgil  \\

[ I don’t hate you, by the way. ]

[ Like in all seriousness. ]

| lol don’t worry man i got that from the lack of good spelling and no capital letter |

| coz you don’t type like that usually |

[ Oh, good. I was hoping by doing that I wouldn’t come across as serious. ]

| yea |

| so uhhhhhhhh |

| hold on gotta think of somethin to say so this isn’t awkward |

| what musicals do you like? |

[ Congrats Virgil!! You just unlocked an hours long conversation ]

| wait no |

| eh nvm i wasnt doing anything tonight anyway |

[ Kay so im gonna start off with the popular ones ofc! ]

-- --

Patton smiled as he looked over the conversation they all had. Because no matter what happened at therapy, by the end he knew he’d still have his new friends. He giggled to himself, feeling giddy. This was so exciting!

He glanced at the groupchat’s name, which at the moment was simply ‘ Therapy pals!! ’, a spur of the moment decision by Patton. He bit his lip as he thought it over.

Patton changed the name of the group to FamILY!     -

Patton smiled even wider than before. Tomorrow was bound to be a good day.

He was sure of it.

[arthurmorganthings]

Surgeon and the Scientist.

Pairing: Javier x Painter!Femreader

Summary: “But don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups, and don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

Explicit Content: +18

Hands stained with tertiary colors and the soft bristles of your brush, you practiced realism with the help of Flat Iron Lake, Clemens Point offered you peace when you weren’t off doing chores for Miss Grimmshaw. Your tent filled with journals of rough sketches with studies you’d find upon each travel. The study of outlaws napping aimlessly in saloons, working girls reeling in potential clients—your favorite person of interest to draw was him.

Javier Escuella. His soft features enthralled you, when he played his guitar with such passion, beckoned you. Though you’d been riding with the Van Der Linde boys for quite some time, you hadn’t said much to him. Occasional hellos, and small talk perhaps—but a full fledged conversation? Never sparked. You craved interaction so bad, you started to think perhaps you weren’t his type after all.

You knew the type of man he was, the men he surrounds himself with. There were times he wouldn’t come back until the crack of dawn—Javier laid with women. Charming them with his native tongue, into the soft sheets he’d lay his head on.

Jealousy found you quickly, gripping the brush tightly as you paint the undertones of the sky. Perhaps it was a silly dream of yours, but someday you’d be a world renowned painter, with suitors from every continent feigning to see your beautiful art.

A girl could dream. But until that time, you’d continue to paint until your hands grow brittle, and weak. You sensed a body hover behind you, “What chu’ paintin’ there?”

Oh. It was Arthur. You pivot with your back foot as your hand still gripped at your brush, your easel wobbles. “Hello. Nothing too important, just figured I had some free time, so here I am.”

He chuckles, rubbing freshly trimmed beard. “You kiddin’ me? It’s beautiful—err, it’s like a picture.”

He always had such a way with words, or none at all. His quirkiness was apart of his cowboy charm. You laugh wholeheartedly. “Thanks. I suppose.”

“You got time to spare?”

You blink. “I mean I-“

“Have a drink with me.”

His forwardness came as a surprise, one drink wouldn’t hurt anyone, would it?

“I should put my easel away then.” You respond softly but Arthur beats you to it. Kentucky Burbon in his hand, you assume is from his Satchel. Handing it to you, you hesitantly take the liquor. The sharp smell of whiskey in filled your nostrils as you winced before taking a swig.

The taste was—well, repulsive to say the least as you return Arthur his bottle. “I can never get used to Burbon.”

He laughs, before taking his swig. “You and I both.”

You continue talk of the old days, when the gang was set on helping folk and less on the idyllic greed for money—it seems when Micah joined, was when the root of all the gang’s problems arised.

Two shots of bourbon became three, then four, then the whole bottle.

Throughout the day, you and Arthur tell tales of drunken banter such as today. It was wholesome. He’s like a big brother figure, you wished to spend quality time with but knew his role within the gang.

Arthur was their support, Hosea was the anchor.

Nightfall crept as the two of you sat near the campfire, the fire cackles as you hug your knees—thoughts of him flooding your mind. Javier had yet to return from his Homestead job with Sean, unless he was pent up in some hotel inside of a whore, they’d camped out somewhere—your cheeks flush at the thought of him doing things unimaginable.

Arthur senses your unease. “You okay kid?”

Your head perks up, staring into his. “It’s nothing.” Your words slur, dejectedly. “I’m just conflicte—Javie—shit, Arthur.”

He sees what’s going on now. “You like ‘im.” He states.

You wanted to slap yourself for setting yourself up for inevitable teasing, but you frown instead. “He doesn’t like me. I’m plain-looking, Javier likes exotic women, and I—well, I’m, me.”

Tears on the brim of coming out as Arthur sighs, “You must be a fool to sell yourself short. Javier is an even bigger fool.”

Before you can argue with him, the faint sounds of horseshoes grazing the mulch of the woods could be heard. Lenny, who was on watch calls, “Took y’all long enough to get back.” It was him.

Your heart dropped to your stomach as Javier hitched his horse. Arthur pats your shoulder reassuringly, “Remember what was said.” As he shuffles to his tent. Javier writes his name in the ledger before placing the undisclosed amount in he camp’s donation box. You felt like a lamb, watching as its prey nears closer.

Removing his clunky boots, Javier grabs his guitar from his tent before shuffling towards the campfire. He was surprised to still see you up, as most of the gang was either asleep or in town. You placed your chin onto your knees as your arms hugged the shins. Javier sits himself next you with his guitar.

A tense beat of silence ensued, almost awkward, but Javier had the first say, “You’re never up this late.”

“You aren’t ever at camp to begin with.” Thank god for the alcohol to enable your bold behavior. You would have never said something like this if you were in a sober state of mind. Javier sniggers, tuning his guitar. You took the time to observe how his fine fingers caress his guitar so smoothly. God, If only he’d do the same to you.

“Yeah well, duty calls my love.”

My love.

You suddenly felt a warm pool at your core. Javier was a man of many skills so it would seem. He strummed beautifully, the tunes releasing from his acoustic. He paused, glancing at you, causing you to look away smoothly before he could notice.

“How’s your painting coming along?” He inquired.

“It’s coming along well,” you respond sheeplishly. “I didn’t think you noticed.”

Javier quirked an eyebrow, shaking his head. “I observed everything. “The drawings, how you stick your tongue out when you’re focused on the details of your paintings, how you look at me.” Your thighs squeezed together from underneath your skirt, Javier was no fool to know what he does to her.

He could never be with her, she was too good for him. But he’ll make her feel things she’s never felt before. Closing the distance from where he sat, wrapping his arm around you, Javier says,“I know that you’re mad at the man that I am, the life I lead.”

“I never said I was Javier. It’s just—I feel like a ghost to you, but I’m no fool to know that you sleep with women. And for the longest time ever, I asked myself���why couldn’t I be the one you have your way with?”

The alcohol was definitely taking its toll, what a story will this be in the morning. Javier’s expression was masked underneath his hat, but responds nontheless.

“Because I respect you too much to.”

You blinked, perplexed. “Javier, sleeping with said person shouldn’t equate the amount of respect you give someone. Dutch has his fair share of women but you hold him to such a high level.

“You shouldn’t speak on things you don’t know girl, it’s incessant.” He mumbles, throwing mini twigs he toyed with on the ground, into the fire.

“But I know, Javier.” You pause. “I know your type, I know you. Even if I’m invisible sometimes.”

You weren’t going to wait for his response, you simply removed yourself from his grasp, shuffling to your tent, near the lake. You opted for more privacy. It was larger than most, filled with old pieces and sketches scattered across the floor. Suddenly the flaps of your tent opened, causing your head to perk near the entrance. It was hard to see during the night but knew who it was.

Closing the flaps, Javier grabbed you by the neck softly. “You think you’re invisible to me?” He questions, his voice not the same from the fire, it was husky and deep. The callouses toying up and down your arm now filled with goosebumps.

“You would rather want me to fuck you like a whore instead? On your back like some working girl?”

Your innocent eyes widened at his crass language, the shift of character only turned you on more when his chest was against yours. Javier was short, but you was shorter by a few inches. His lips found the shell of your lobe.

“Come on. I want you to say it.”

“I, want you.”

He tightens his grip, illiciting a moan. You knew what he wanted you to say. Your soft fingers pressing at his hand. “I want you, to fuck me, like a whore.”

He chuckles. “On your knees then.”

You place yourself in front of him, knees kissing the ground you walked on as he unzips the seams. Your face flushed once graced with Javier’s girth—larger than you’d expect.

It’d be foolish to say he wasn’t a man that was well-endowed. His unconscious incompetence at times was rather amusing when observing him around camp. But when it came to laying with a man you’d yearned for.

This was completely different.

“Come on girl. His hand gripped at your cheeks, as he forced you to look up at him from your compromising position. “We don’t have all night.”

You waste no time taking his length into your mouth while staring up at him doe-eyed. The taste of precum ensued. Watching him groan before you brought a warmness to your stomach before staining your bloomers with an embarrassing amount of essence sure to show once they were removed. Nothing at this point in time mattered as you took him in some more. His pelvis thrusted forward as he gripped your locks of hair, forcing his cock down your throat—the movements followed continuously as you gagged.

Your eyes watered, saliva stained the sides of your cheek as he removed himself from your mouth to avoid from cumming. Javier did not want to miss his chance of getting to be inside of you. He growled, “Take these off.”

You followed suit, removing your plain blouse and skirt, followed by your chemise and bloomers. He pushes your onto the cart, on all fours. His thumb grazing your wet cunt with content upon touch.

You gasp, pulling at your lips softly as he rubs in circles.

“I’m gonna need you to keep quiet, princess.”

Your heart fluttered at the pet name as you nod, taking that as a confirmation. Once lined at your cunt, Javier sucks in a breath, the tightness of her walls would make any man groan in pleasure. “Fuck, you feel so good around me.”

You grip at the edge of the cot tightly, biting your lip, you wiggle your way further into his cock. He watches as it disappears and reappear again—it takes a lot out of him not to grab at your hips and fuck you. The squelching sound of your wet heap wasn’t making it any better either. It was embarrassingly loud it wouldn’t be a surprise if anyone from camp could hear the sounds of coitus.

Covering your mouth with your hands as Javier speeds up his pace by grinding his hips agains your back side, it grew difficult to stay quiet. How, when you wanted to let the world know the man of your dreams was fucking you with raw, unadulterated passion? The tiny squeals, and pants could only be heard by said lover as he lets out ragged breaths.

He whispered in your ear, “How bad do you want to cum?”

So goddamn bad. The precipice was near as you knit your brows together and nod in your mouth. Fearing the sounds that could come out of you removed them. He thrusts harder, his grunts increasing in volume while he pistons into your cunt—your face flushed, squealing into your palms while your body seeps into the cot.

“I said, how bad do you want to come?”

He wanted you to answer, in such a compromising position like this. You remove your hands briefly before replying, “So bad.” Your voice higher than last time as he grunts.

“Where do you want it?”

God if he was making her choose, she’d easily say inside. Despite what that may cause in the inevitable future.

“Anywhere, haaa.” She moans loudly, abosoloutly careless of her shameless inhibitions. Javier clasps his fingers across her mouth, digging at the cheeks—sighs of his own orgasm ensuing. His thrusts grew slopper, his jaw tightened with ragged breaths. Your walls convulsed before seeing white.

Eyes fluttering closed, mouth in a silent gasp as Javier’s seed fills your womb. You fall limp onto your cot before the overstimulating feeling of Javier remove himself from inside of you before adjusting himself back in his pantsuit.

A beat of silence followed, the only sound heard was the ragged breaths of both lovers. Feeling of realization hits you.

“Shit.” You curse. “I forgot, my canvas by the board walk. My paints are probably all dried out by now.”

“I’ll go get it for you. You get some rest.” Javier replies as he leaves for your tent. You call out to him before he does, causing him to turn around.

“Can we do this again?”

He smirks before pondering. “You know, my mom once said, don't trust the surgeon with your heart, She's drunk and sips from poison cups. And don't you trust the scientist, He says "life-is-like-a-wineglass" as he spills his drink like secrets all across your dress.”

You furrow your eyebrow, “The Surgeon? Javier what does this even m—“

“In due time, you’ll know.”

Upon his exit from the Tent, you lay back down onto your cot with a quilt covering your indecency, the line still engrained in your heart.

The surgeon, and the Scientist.

-

BTW THE SURGEON AND THE SCIENTIST IS MY FAVORITE LA DISPUTE SONG <3 FOR @famderlinde @jungle @mollyohshea 💗

[tessxomarie]

Saving You - Part I

*Hi everyone! First, I need to shoutout @hellosupernaturaldoctor​  for giving me advice and the confidence to even attempt this. This is my very first time writing any fan-fiction and the first time I’ve decided to post any of my writing some place other than a word doc. I’ve had this idea for this story since mid-season of the Mayans, and after the finale I put all my thoughts into a story. It starts off slow, but I promise what I have in store next will be worth it! PS, Any feedback is appreciated! - This story takes place a few months after the season one finale. Ez is now a newly patched in member, Alvarez is still working for Galindo; things have been quiet as of late, well for the most part.*

It’s a Friday afternoon, I’m just getting off of work. It’s hot as fuck outside – guess that’s the price you pay when you live in the desert. I lazily gather my purse from the backroom, before I step foot outside, I redo my hair. What was once a cute pony tail this morning has turned into a mangled mess. As my luck would have it, my hair tie snaps as soon as I go to wrap it around a third time. “Fuck.” I mumble to myself. I always wear an extra hair tie on my wrist, but I cannot have a naked wrist. “Fine, a mangled mane I will have. It’s fine, it’s fine.” I whisper to myself. If I don’t leave here now, I will lose all sanity I have left. Man, what a shit show day today has been, this heat must be getting to the kids. Two broken wrists, a broken arm, a no helmet incident and a random summer cold. I didn’t get puked or shit on, and no kid attempted to kick or hit, so I call today’s shit show a success. Just as I’m about to leave, one of my co-workers stops me, “Leah, good work today. You kept that broken arm kid really calm. Keep it up.” Elena tells me with a smile. “Thanks, Elena. I’m just doing my job, but I always welcome feedback, so thanks again.” I say to her as I head out the back door. It’s 4:30pm, I’ve been on the clock since 6am, one would think I deserve to simply go home and use my complex’s pool – oh one can dream. But nope, I’m still on the clock but I guess you could call this gig more of an always “on-call” service.

I pull up in my old school blacked out Jeep Grand Cherokee about twenty minutes after I leave the clinic to the Romeo Brothers Scrapyard, also known as the headquarters for the Mayans MC.  

Chucky greets me, per usual. “Greetings Nurse Aleeah.” He says to me with a big smile and a salute. I let out a giggle as I always do whenever someone says my full name…I rarely ever go by it, but around here, I hear it more than I have in years. But Chucky, oh Chucky– how does one describe a chronic masturbator who has a good heart and is part of the biker world without truly being a biker? I guess I just did, didn’t I? “Hey Chucky, how are you?” I ask as I park and exit my Jeep. “I am well, swell actually. I have no complaints today.” Chucky answers with a big smile. “Good, I’m glad to hear that.” I say as I give his arm a friendly squeeze. “The boys need your assistance, I don’t know details but clearly someone got messed up hence why you are here.” Chucky explains in typical Chucky fashion.I roll my eyes as I stand in front of the clubhouse. “It’s always something with these boys, huh?” I rhetorically ask. Chucky nods his head and heads back to the office. I walk up the steps and take a deep breath before I enter the clubhouse. This club is like a box of chocolates, you never know what the fuck you’re going to get so it’s best you just grin and bear it. Is it just a cut from a broken beer bottle? Did a fight break out and there is blood everywhere? A bullet wound? A stabbing wound? A rat bite? Like I said, you just never know. I open the doors and pray today is nothing major. “Have no fear, your favorite RN is here.” I announce as I enter the clubhouse and strike a pose in the doorway.  “Umm, isn’t it RN BSN?” Riz corrects as he stands and greets me. “Have I told you that you’re my favorite?” I reply with a playful wink and smile, it does make me truly happy that these guys acknowledge and are proud of my accomplishments. “Hola Aleeah.” Riz says to me while we greet with a warm hug, per usual. “Hey, I spy my favorite nurse!” Gilly shouts from across the room. Creeper, Hank and Taza also wave from the card table. “Greetings gentlemen, you all seem to be in one piece.” I say as I mosey around the few tables between me and the guys. “Although that pleases me, who is the one who called up 1-800-Rescue Nurse?” I sarcastically spit, which receives some laughs from the guys. “They’re in church.” Hank points towards the door. “They? Plural?” I ask looking at Riz, and he nods to confirm. “Jesus Christ.” I say palming my face. “Lee Baby!” Coco shouts from exiting church and walking over to me with open arms. “Ah, Coco Loco.” I reply with a smile and we hug. “How are you doing, Coco?” I ask after we break our embrace. “A lot better than your next two victims.” He replies, him not making much eye contact and that just gives it away – I know automatically who my victims are. “You gotta be kidding me? They got into it again?!” All Coco does is nod and look down at the floor. “How bad?” I ask. “What do you mean? How bad do they look? Or how bad is it between them?” Coco asks me. I shake my head with disgrace. I angrily take my steps towards church and I aggressively open the door. “Damn, she is pissed.” I hear Creeper’s echo as I close the door, as soon I enter the room. Looking at the table, I see them. One is at one end, the other one on the opposite end. I drop my nurse’s bag on the table and cross my arms. “You two have some damn nerve - getting into it again. Jesus. You’re fucking brothers, you are blood – blood don’t do this shit.” I yell with anger and confusion. Silence fills the air as the guys look at each other and up at me. Bishop then looks over to me and quirks an eyebrow and half smile. “Excuse my poor manners, Bish. Your boys tend to make me lose all sanity I have left at the end of a work week.” I tell him as I walk over and give him a warm embrace. “Oh Leah, you’re fine. I know this shit has been out of control recently.” Bishop pauses and looks over to the guys. He takes a deep breath. “I’ll let you handle them now. I’ll be outside if you need a referee.” Bishop exits and I just stand there, crossed arms again. Both boys refuse to look me in the eye, but instead stare each other down. “Are you just going to stand there?” Angel seethes. I let out a sarcastic laugh. “Give me one good reason as to why I should fix the both of you up? Huh? Because as I see it, this is the fourth time this month…THIS MONTH!  Angel, please, humor me and explain to me why the fuck I should tend to your wounds yet again? Maybe if I let you both be, you’ll learn these fights aren’t worth it.” I take a deep breath myself, and I run my hand through my tangled hair, which I then end up putting up in a pony tail right after, I’ll just have to remember to find another hair tie to wear on my wrist later.   “Alright, I’m sorry I went off. You two, you two just frustrate me.” I say holding my hands up mimicking a surrender. I take another breath and look between the boys. My gaze is drawn to EZ, probably because he’s the easier one out of the two. “Okay, EZ, I see that nasty cut on your cheek, oh and your hand – good going big brother.” I say as I look over to Angel. He looks away the moment I look his way. “Shocker, EZ gets to be first yet again.” Angel chirps. “Seriously?” I snap. “I’m over here fucking bleeding, I could be dying but all you and anyone ever cares about is Ezekiel.”   “Shut it Angel, just shut it, please.” I beg. I start to tend to EZ’s war wounds; some cuts, a nasty one on his cheek – I’m guessing Angel’s rings got the best of him this time around. EZ, he doesn’t say much this time I’m here. I know that he feels the same way as me – he’s tired of this back and forth shit with his brother. “EZ, no more. It’s one thing when you all call me to take a bullet out, or to give a rabies shot, but this shit – playground fights, I’m done.” I explain as I place the last bandage strip to his cheek. EZ doesn’t make eye contact, and his jaw is clenched. His knees shaking. “I know, Lee. I’m sorry you’re doing this again.” EZ tells me as he finally meets my eyes for the first time. EZ, he’s easy to read. He wears his emotions in his eyes, his eyes right now are filled with pain and sadness. This whole feud with Angel, it’s taken a toll on everyone in this club. It’s been almost eight months of this fuckery. “Remove the bandage Sunday night, it needs about 48 hours to heal. If you feel the need to remove it beforehand, clean it thoroughly. Have some of your favorite tequila tonight, and you will be good.” I tell EZ as I throw away the things I used to care for him. “Thanks, Lee.” He says as he kisses me on the cheek and walks somberly out of church. My heart aches for EZ, because the pain – physical and emotional is all over his face and body. Angel hasn’t taken his eyes off of the wall nor has he spoken. I slide my bag down the table as I slowly make my way towards him. Rubber gloves are on, and I grab his face. “Let’s see your damage.” I say, like a dog would when a human goes to check their mouth for something, Angel gives me a little tension as I touch his face. Again, no eye contact. A look of annoyance screams from his expression. I see a nasty cut on the side of his head, by his eye – a sensitive area which bleeds more than most. A black eye is also forming. “Jesus Christ, Angel.” I say examining the cut a little further. “This has to stop. I’m begging. I cannot deal with looking at you two like this, because my fear is that one day, I’m going to be too late to help any of you.” “What if it is?” He spews. I scoff, “No more.” Is all I manage to say. I take out an alcohol swab to clean out his cut. “This is going to sting, on the count of three – one, two, three.” I say as I then put the swab against the cut. A loud hiss comes from Angel and an instant reaction of mine is to grab his face and blow lightly at the cut, helping the sting not be so painful. Angel’s eyes then lock with mine, a look of shock and confusion fill his brown eyes. Angel and I, we’ve had a very interesting relationship since I first came to Santo Padre. He gave me an attitude and I gave it right back – he seemed more pissed off when I talked back than just walking away, and the more I talked back, the more tension built up between us. We started out on the wrong foot, and that’s how we have remained. He lets me care for him, depending on the time of day. Sometimes he lets his girlfriend, well I think she’s his girlfriend, Adelita, clean him up. Today, for whatever reason, he stuck around the clubhouse. I continue to blow on his wound, and I wince back in pain for him because I know it had to sting like a bitch. “Uhh, sorry. It’s a habit of mine, when I treat the kids, I have to do this; they hate it too, so that technique helps them...” I ramble and look away because I sense a bit of embarrassment, as I’ve never been “nice” to Angel. I look and reach back at the table to grab what I need next, just as I turn to face Angel again, I notice a very small smile on his face. “What?” I question, because seeing him smile legit concerns me. “It’s nothing, Leah.” He says monotone and lets me continue working on him. A few more minutes go by, and I determine that he doesn’t need any stitches, just a little butterfly work on one of his eyebrows. “Okay, that’s all. No stitches today, that cut on the side of your face, it’s a sensitive area that bleeds more than most. Your eyebrow cut, it’s an awkward cut – it’s ugly but not ugly enough for stitches. My only request is when you clean it out, could you please use both water and soap?” I emphasize. I know how these guys operate. They either use a dirty rag or tap water to clean themselves up. I turn to clean up my stuff and Angel lets out a minor laugh, which catches me off guard. I look at him and quirk an inquisitive look. Angel stands up, he turns behind his chair and lightly pounds his fist to the back of it. “You sounded just like my ma.” He tells me, in the softest voice I have ever heard Angel speak in. I offer him a small smile as I already know what that history is. Angel leaves church, and per usual no other words are spoken, no thank you’s, nothing. I stay behind a few more moments and collect my thoughts and belongings. I hear the door open, at first I’m startled but relieved it’s just Bishop. “How we doin’, sweetheart?” He asks. I let out a very deep sigh and my facial expression tells my feelings of this whole ordeal. Bishop can’t help but laugh, “I know, Lee. I know.” He tells me as he pulls me in for a hug. “I just need to go home and lay in bed and watch a trashy romcom.” I exclaim as I grab my bag. “I think you’ve deserved that, but before you go – you have a visitor.” He tells me. A look of a deer in the head-lights flashes across my face, who the hell could be visiting me? “Just come with me.” Bishop motions for me to take his hand and follow him. Nerves take over, with the Club, you never know what can happen. As I exit the room, I see the guys scattered all over the clubhouse yet all eyes are on me. “Your visitor is the biggest pain in my ass, so make it quick.” Bishop says, but I catch his playfulness I his voice and I look to the bar and I see who Bishop is talking about – Marcus Alvarez.

[whimsically-ominously-auspice]

The local Sheriff contacted us via DNA4U and requested the maps be available for this girl. As they had the place, they wanted to back track its location.

Most law enforcement only has 6 months of back data available.

So we opened it up so he may see. The CIA also traced the case just in case he needed help.

But he did not. He did perfectly well in his own division. He found the owner of the skull..

And he was able to come back up 10 years to find the murderer had already been executed and sent to Hell via evaporation 2 months ago.

We would like the family and law enforcement department to have some tree therapy in order to bring her back via "ghosting" which will be her choice of age and style changes.

And allow them to meet together. We hope they continue to update us on this case.

So y'all crimes are down So look up old crimes in your area and get to solving.

For this particular he didnt search the old crime list..

He went direct to the source of the location. Tag pinned the skull and had the satellite force feed him any movement the skull made. So it went from todsy to last year to what year her body being taken there to 4 weeks before she was taken there. And that is when the sheriff chose to stop back tracking her.

Because from her abduction it was 4 weeks until her frozen body was placed at that site. So he went back to her actual abduction, just a simple offer of a ride from a stranger.

Im sorry for the family and the tragic events for this young beautiful trusting teen. I hope the future provides a better fit for her trust in others.

So law enforcement the list does contain maps. 50 years and to now. So if the case is from 1996 the maps for that case are available. And they're pre tagged and so on. They're basically solved. But we need our law enforcement heroes to deliver the information in person. Face to face.

I know it is an emotionally difficult case, job operative. But people are usually glad their families are still cared about. The cases on red are not to be dealt with at this time. The victims were less than surely characters.

Green are strong survivors. Easy to handle and smooth.

Blue are sad.

Yellow are emotionally distraught. So you'll need at least 2 blue and one green or 4 green or at least 2 blue experience before attempting to do a yellow.

Some places will require a green before moving to blue. So at least 2 blue overall.

After 5 yellow. A week long internship about vacations is mandatory. Which is 3 hours per day day dreaming about the good life. Because it is emotionally destroying for the officers having to see so much grief. It can be extremely overwhelming. And it can take a wrong toll, even to the best of people.

So even on a 3 hour internship. An officer can sit in his patrol car and do his rounds and take 30 minutes to an hour long break while being visible to the public in case they have a need to be addressed. Or they can take a solid 3 hour break. It is up to the department. They may work from home (requested) or any other place. It is normal wages AND time and a half pay from my departments to be paid for the internship. It is required the half time and half the regular pay be saved in a savings account provided by me So you're not wasting my time and money playing pretend.

After 4 solid weeks of pay you may retrieve your pay.

If you make $10 an hour normal. I will pay $25 per hour. $10 per hour will go into the savings account where 10% interest is paid daily.

So it's a 7 day internship. So that's $70 per week with daily interest compounded. So that's. $7 the first day. For 28 days.

So $280 would be the deposit for 4 weeks.

Compounded daily means ... The second day you have $77.70 so 10% is $7.77. The third day you have $85.47. 10% of that is $8.54 added... And so on and so on...

After the 4 weeks you must remove it from that account we have it auto done for you so it goes to a normal monthly compounded 2% savings account.

Then your balance begins at zero.

Now if you have been solving already we take the workers and advisors and pay $800 per case solved into a 12% compounded daily account for 4 weeks. If the vacation internship is required then it gets put in as well and you will receive interest on the total daily.

Then it goes to a 5% savings account for 2 weeks then into a 3% savings account for as long as you like.

You will keep your 4 week pay in for 6 weeks. As opposed to only 4 weeks.

For all:

So we begin compounding the interest on day one. On day 7 we freeze interest until more money is put in. So until you complete 5 yellow cases. And pay begins again. Then for 7 days the money grows like it's on a tree. After 7 days it freezes until money is put in again. Repeat until it is moved.

In the event you have an officer leave by desth or alien status. The remaining family keeps the money After 30 days of 10% compounded interest.

The department they work for receives a matching amount of what was in the account on DOD. For good nature fund to put forth to the community via safe events for food, bouncy castles, give always and more. If the department does not have an existing account for such leisure then one will be established using an additional match of the funds.

So if there are 3 different departments working in one city then there is one account for the entire city. And then events should have 2 per day one on either end of the city's center. So divide the city into 2 or 4 and then in the center of that section is the same exact event.

Larger cities will have larger funds. Tree has that organized into a compound rate account where money really does grow on trees.